


Paper And Parchment

by KnightInShiningMoran



Series: MorMor Drabbles [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Buttsex, M/M, PWP, Wings AU, lazy sunday morning sex, literally an AU where they have wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightInShiningMoran/pseuds/KnightInShiningMoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mornings off, lazy sunday mornings that are for sex and tea. Wings AU PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper And Parchment

Barely awake, Sebastian sees vague movement out of the corner of his eyes, veiled by sleep crystals and his eyelashes. He sighs and moves minutely, the bed linen rustling crisply. Beside him is the comforting warmth that is Jim. Blearily, Sebastian wipes at his eyes, yawning. Jim sirs beside him, whimpering softly as he’s pulled from slumber. 

“Hey... “ Sebastian touches Jim’s shoulder, letting his hand trail across the pale, light dappled, scar strewn skin to where the small feathers, barely wisps like baby hair, branched up onto the flesh covering the edges of his shoulder blades. Sebastian toys with a feather, his fingers skating over the wing joint.

Jim spreads his wings out as he does when he isn’t paying attention, shielding Sebastian from the thin white light of the sunny winter morning. “Sebby...” Jim reaches out with his kitten weak hands gripping Sebastian’s wing humerus as tightly as his fingers allow. Sebastian flutters his wing slowly, moving Jim’s hand with it.

“How did you sleep?” Jim grimaces at this and shakes his head, no he does not want to answer that today, “Shall I make you some tea?”

“Cranberry green, please.” Sebastian leans over, pressing a brief kiss on Jim’s forehead before heaving himself out of bed, stretching as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Jim rolls onto his back, wings spreading out beneath him, luxuriating in the newfound space. He stretches with a whispered moan, his joints cracking in release. When Sebastian comes back with a steaming mug of green tea, Jim is cocooned in his deep brown wings, cat-combing the feathers with his fingers, catching the smaller loose ones, letting them fall onto the bed.

“Tea.” Sebastian makes his presence known, his own wings, a mixture of whitish-gold and a deeper blond that Jim referred playfully to as ‘toasted marshmallow’, folded behind his back neatly; a habit of military days when if wings were not being useful, they were being a hindrance.

Jim sits up and holds out a hand for the mug, “Why do you hold yourself like that, it looks terribly uncomfortable, darling.” Sebastian shrugs, yes, it is uncomfortable to have to compact his wings like that, but the accompanying ache was something of an odd comfort to him. He was only glad he wasn’t a girl, the thought of his sister’s crippled wings made him shiver; the expectation of aristocracy could be cruel at times. 

“It’s just a thing, isn’t it.” He sits back down on the edge of the bed, sipping his own Earl Grey. 

“Please relax, darling.”

“I am relaxed.” Sebastian lowers his wings and shoulders, letting the muscles unclench. 

“Come here.” Jim gestures, with one hand, tea still in the other. Sebastian puts his own cup down, leaning towards Jim. He closes his eyes as Jim’s hand brushes over his jaw, resting just below his ear. He is eased forwards by Jim who kisses him chastely, starting at his lips and trailing to his neck, which Sebastian cranes up to give Jim better access.

When Jim places his cup on the bedside table Sebastian sees his opportunity and lurches forward, taking Jim’s lips with his own properly. His pale wings curve further over them until the tips are brushing against Jim’s shoulders and arms. 

Jim bites on Sebastian’s lip, teeth digging in a little too sharply, making him gasp softly. Startled by Sebastian’s harsh intake of breath, Jim pulls away minutely, staring with those dark eyes up at him.  
“Okay, tiger?”

“Of course.” Sebastian all but purrs, his fingers catching Jim’s chin, tilting it up, allowing them to kiss again. Jim pulls him forward until he’s pressing him into the headboard of the bed, wings spread out behind him, and Sebastian’s leg is pushing uncomfortably between Jim’s. 

Jim slides his hands over Sebastian’s bare torso, nails digging in and scraping red lines into the tanned, parchment colour skin. He shivers, a pleased sigh slipping from his lungs. As Sebastian licks the lines of Jim’s lips, he grips him like a second set of ribs. 

With a chuckle, Sebastian pulls away, his face slightly flushed, the heat between them like the beginning of a stiff drink; burning the throat and immediately flooding the face with heat. Jim finds himself being manoeuvred, Sebastian pressing his wrists together, holding them to the headboard above his head. Grinning, he presses his mouth to Jim’s neck, scraping his teeth up to his ear, he bites his earlobe and for a moment all Jim can hear is the fevered breath of Sebastian’s desire. 

“Sit down a little...” Sebastian murmurs and Jim wriggles down in response, he kisses Jim’s face, his nose, forehead, cheek bones, the curve between the bridge of his nose and his eye socket, the crease beside his eye that’s too young to be crow’s feet, the space between his nose and top lip. Jim grins, his face screwed up as Sebastian’s ruffled hair tickles his face. Sebastian pulls back, beaming, too, his wings flicker overhead happily. 

He takes the cool plastic bottle from the side where they’d left it the night before and presents it to Jim, “Would you like to...?” Jim nods in reply, so Sebastian moves back, allowing Jim some space before straddling those paper-white hips, facing away. He leans down and Jim strokes the backs of Sebastian’s thighs, his nails not digging in until he’s grabbing his ass, thumb rubbing against his entrance reassuringly.

Jim pushes the tip of his thumb into Sebastian, earning a soft breath of surprise, he twists from his thumb joint, circling, easing Sebastian, giving him a moment to relax.  
Shifting back, Sebastian lowers his head, taking Jim’s cock into his mouth, just the head to start with, his tongue pressing, rolling, fluttering against the very tip. Jim gasps and smacks Sebastian in retaliation. He squeezes lube onto the tip of his finger and watches it drip down for a moment before rubbing it over Sebastian, hooking the top of his finger inside, making sure he’s well covered before slowly working his finger in, circling in a spiral. 

Sebastian hums in approval, sliding his mouth further down Jim’s cock, curving his back and letting his lower teeth skim down the skin.  
The shiver that runs through Sebastian when Jim slips in a second finger runs right to the tips of his wings, right down to the quivering spines of his primary feathers. Jim growls softly, one hand a vice on Sebastian’s thigh, the other working him open in varying speeds. 

“Jim, please...” Sebastian mewls, his head resting on Jim’s thigh, his hips involuntarily pushing back into his partner’s touch, his wings shivering and shimmering in the air. 

“Please what, tiger?”

“Stop it now, I’m ready.”

“If you’re sure.” Jim removes his fingers with a sickly, slick sound and lies back whilst Sebastian turns around to face him, holding out a hand expectantly. Jim rolls his eyes playfully, pursing his lips, he hands Sebastian the bottle of lube and allows himself to be touched; Sebastian’s fingers working over him firmly, all the steady hands of a surgeon, gone to waste he supposed, taking lives instead of saving them. 

Jim is almost too lost in his own thoughts and is only brought back to reality when the warmth and weight of Sebastian is lowered onto and around him. He watches, Sebastian’s wings stretching themselves to full length, everything about him is gold and white and bronze, even the light that touches him seems to come away stained with that luminosity.

He leans forward, having found a comfortable position, places his hands on Jim’s shoulders and rolls his hips deeply and slowly, rocking hard. Surprisingly gently, Jim’s fingertips trace up towards Sebastian’s stomach, his hips, and there Jim’s nails catch against his skin like brambles catching on clothing. Sebastian gives a whimpering sigh.

“J-jim, god, Jim—please!” He whispers in a rush, “Please—“

“Tell me what you want.” Jim stares at him with clear eyes set.

Sebastian leans down lower, setting his hands either side of Jim, fingers grasping at the feathers desperately, “God—touch me, please.” He says in a hushed, breathless voice.  
Smirking, Jim obliges, his hand wrapping loosely, lazily around Sebastian’s cock, his thumb rubbing up to the tip then back down again. Sebastian speeds up his movements, clenching his fists in Jim’s feathers as he frantically tries to fuck Jim harder, deeper, faster, complimented by the string of gasping moans and whimpers he can barely control. 

He meets Jim’s eye and smiles, “Are you close?” He whispers.

Jim can only nod in reply, his jaw in clenched shut, but there are short growls and pleasured hums indicating to Sebastian that he’s certainly doing something right. It’s a few moments of the unpleasant sounds of copulating, the squeamish slap of flesh on flash, like a butcher turning a piece of meat on the block, that sickly squelch of bodily fluids. It’s the contrasting float and flutter, whipping of wings, the brief rustling of feathers, the way Sebastian’s reflect light as they arch behind him whist he’s coming then they curl around him like a shield, twitching to the beat of Jim’s still moving hips, the last few thrusts that drive him to his own climax. It sends shivers down the dark wings; oil slick black, the dark murk of a lake in the sun, flecked with a few lighter brown feathers that match his eyes, glinting with malice. 

Sebastian watches him, both of them spent, his wings lazily rising as falling with his breaths. He smiles at Jim, a gesture as radiant as himself. Jim smiles back through hooded eyes, ready for sleep again. Pressing a kiss to Jim’s forehead, Sebastian rolls to the side with a small grimace. He lays on his side, watching his clever, little criminal doze, his eyelashes like tiny versions of his wings; he folds one wing over both of them, protecting Jim from the big, bad world.

**Author's Note:**

> The thing about Seb's sister having crippled wings? I thought if there was a sort of 'elitist' society, to make girls prettier, they should have prim and proper wings, always folded and as small as possible; something akin to foot binding in China.  
> Hope you enjoyed it. ;3


End file.
